This has been my life for the past few weeks.
While Craig and my stepdad painted our house, I sat back and did the bare minimum. I had to. I'm seven-months pregnant and I have a habit of over-doing it. Still, I felt like the water boy who sits on the sidelines waiting to be told to run in and play.
Then our big 'moving' day came. While we didn't fully move in, we just moved some of our furniture, we still moved. And we rented a u-haul. If you ever want to see a comedy, watch an American girl who has driven u-hauls before take direction from a South African used to directing tanks where to go.
I mentioned Craig did that in the Army, right?
I also mentioned I've never driven a tank, right? (Much less, taken direction on how to drive one.)
I digress. This may have been fun for my nephew to watch but it was not fun for Craig and I.
Nothing tests your patience more than moving and nothing rocks your relationship quite like this. We moved half-way around the world with less aggravation than it took to move us up 1 mile.
We're pretty much moved in - now we just need to finish cleaning, organizing, and building. Perhaps this is why I'm up at 4am.
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